


the only friend that makes you cry

by dieselgloss



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Ghoul has a hand kink I think, I just googled that, Kobra and Jet make a guest appearance, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pet Names, Pining, cheirophilia, funpoison, ghoul is learning about feelings, idk man it’s pretty gay, no actual porn but yes hand porn, not really all that angsty it’s pretty soft, poison is a flirt, these two really do be sharing one braincell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dieselgloss/pseuds/dieselgloss
Summary: “If I didn’t know you any better” Poison let out a soft unsure laugh and gave a questioning look as he shifted a little in his seat, “I’d say you didn’t hear one word I said, babe” he shrugged his jacket off and propped his elbows on the table, cradling his chin in his hands, fingers tapping his cheeks absently as he studied him.“Aw fuck. I’m so sorry” Ghoul said quickly, wiping a hand over his eyes and trying to will away the brain fog “Just uh... been a lot on my mind”OR: the one where Poison is talking and Ghoul can’t pay attention because he is Feeling Too Much.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Party Poison (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days), funpoison - Relationship
Comments: 19
Kudos: 76





	the only friend that makes you cry

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally never written fic before and haven’t written anything period in YEARS but this idea just popped into my head and then it kinda got away from me a bit. This is pretty much just 4K worth of purple prose about our pretty boy poison. Completely stream of consciousness and unedited so if it doesn’t make sense, I’m sorry hah

“Whaddya say, Ghoulie?” Poison’s eyes slid up from the dusty map he had mercilessly pressed into the table by his index finger “Up for it?” He huffed a breath upwards to blow an errant tangle of red hair from his eyes and smirked conspiratorially.

Ghoul swallowed dryly and let his eyes track the motion of Poison’s lips as one side tugged upwards. Watched the way the low sun cast his features in stark relief like a shadow thrown down on the sun baked dirt. He let his eyes slide down the line of his sharp jaw. Looking at him always gave that same sense of relief that being out on the road did. Like driving too fast and hanging out the passenger side window dusting Dracs. The hot wind splitting in two around his face, filling his lungs and coaxing him out of whatever anxiety he was drowning in on that particular day. Poison was like if you extracted that feeling and bottled it. 

His gaze followed a bead of sweat trailing down into the hollow at the base of Poison’s throat before the redhead moved suddenly, ducking his head lower and into Ghoul’s line of vision, his soft face coming into sharp focus like a camera lense, shaking him from his thoughts. Ghoul’s cheeks burned and he shook his head, rattling the one braincell he seemed to have left back into the conversation. 

“You still with me, sugar?” He was grinning slyly. He was using pet names again. Ghoul could feel the leftover heat from getting caught staring as the flush spread down his throat and onto his chest, resting with the sheen of sweat that already clung to him. Was it hotter than usual in here? The air felt suffocating. Poison drummed his slender fingers on the map, less because he was impatient, more so because he could never sit still for too long. Ghoul shook his head again. 

He cleared his throat. Focus. 

“Always with you, Pois.” He said earnestly. The sentiment was not lost on Poison, as his grin softened into something fonder at the sound of his nickname on Ghoul’s lips. He made a small humming sound and tilted his head with affection.

The truth was, Ghoul hadn’t heard the plan. He could be agreeing to any number of Poison’s grand schemes and blindly saying yes, as he had done many times in the past. Didn’t matter. Because it was still true, he was always with Poison. He would follow that motherfucker into hell to face the devil himself in a hail of blaster bolts and a hellfire of their own design. He would die slow with a smile on his face if it meant he had Poison’s back til the end. He would die without ever telling him the way that their effortless bond had seemed to turn into something else for him recently. He would die without ever knowing if the feeling was returned. He shook his head again. He would die, period, so what did it matter anyway? Poison was a flirt. Everyone in the six Zones and Battery City knew that and Ghoul just really needed to get his head straight. He was nothing special, he was just another victim of the way that Poison seemed to make everyone feel like they were. He had a way of lighting people up from the inside and Ghoul was clearly not immune to it. He made him feel incandescent, like he himself was a nuclear explosion lighting up the horizon. Maybe he was going soft, he was well aware he’d always had a weakness for him. Maybe that was okay.

He looked down at the table where his hands had involuntarily balled into fists around his coffee cup. He wasn’t entirely convinced that the bitter excuse for the drink wasn’t actually dirt but they all choked it down anyway. He took a sip and grimaced, setting the cup back down. He flexed some of the tension from his fingers and rested his hands on the table bracketing the map, trying desperately to stay out of his own head for once and pay attention.

Poison took a smooth sip from his coffee and swallowed without reacting (impressive, yet disgusting, Ghoul noted) he set his cup down and his hands splayed out on the tattered map, emphatically making gestures and circles over specific areas. He was saying something about some Dracs who had a supply holding over in Zone 2. Ghoul’s eyes drifted over Poison’s dust caked hands. He had the slender, clever fingers of a lockpick. He thought of all the times he had snuck up on Poison hunched over a drawing on the steering wheel of the Trans Am, legs dangling out the window, charcoal and dust coating those brilliant hands and smeared across his face. During those rare moments of down time, Ghoul would find himself tinkering under the hood just to have an excuse to be near him, so he could watch his brows knit together and his tongue dart out in adorable concentration as he emphatically scribbled another one of his big ideas. Sometimes Poison would call him over to earnestly ask his opinion of something, as if he didn’t even realize how beautiful the strange genius of his drawings were, how beautiful everything he touched was. Ghoul must’ve changed the Trans Am’s oil three times a week just for an excuse to stay close, but at least the engine was never better attended to. He only got a little embarrassed when Kobra sometimes came to stand with him in silent understanding, eyes sliding between the two of them, Ghoul up to his elbows in grease, all but sighing at the Kid’s brother from around the side of the hood, while Poison, oblivious and lost in his own world as always, hummed to himself. Usually Kobra would shake his head and walk away, which was fine by Ghoul. Sometimes he would give him a look of pity and a squeeze on the shoulder, which was worse.

Ghoul’s eyes followed the veins up Poison’s forearms. As if in subconscious response, Poison had then flipped his right hand palm up, gesticulating over some point. Ghoul was dully aware of his voice but it sounded like he was on the other side of a dust storm. His eyes continued traveling up the tracks of veins of his inner wrist where the skin was delicate and pale, hinting at what Poison might’ve looked like had they not lived in an unforgiving nuclear desert with no sunscreen to speak of. He had the overwhelming urge to rub his fingers there and feel his pulse point. Had the overwhelming urge to run his thumb over the callouses of his hands. He licked his lips which seemed to have gone suddenly as dry as his mouth. Fuck. He was getting distracted again. Poison absolutely loved to talk and Ghoul loved almost nothing more than listening to him, and yet he couldn’t seem to get it together right now. He had no idea how much time had passed when he lifted his eyes carefully up to Poison’s, hoping he hadn’t been caught again.

“If I didn’t know you any better” Poison let out a soft unsure laugh and gave a questioning look as he shifted a little in his seat, “I’d say you didn’t hear one word I said, babe” he shrugged his jacket off and propped his elbows on the table, cradling his chin in his hands, fingers tapping his cheeks absently as he studied him.

“Aw fuck. I’m so sorry” Ghoul said quickly, wiping a hand over his eyes and trying to will away the brain fog “Just uh... been a lot on my mind” he ran his fingers through his hair and smiled weakly “Lately” he finished, simply.

“Mmmhm. Whatever you say, Ghoulie.” He gave him a sidelong glance. There it was again. The nickname that was saved like a secret only for Poison’s lips and that was seemingly created with the sole purpose of destroying Ghoul’s tenuous grasp on his mental state. 

Poison had turned his attention through the window, onto the sun setting over the wastes of desert. He pushed his back off from the seat to give himself better access as he dug around the back pocket of his jeans for a pack of smokes. When he retrieved them, he took out one only slightly crumpled cigarette and pressed it between his lips. Once lit, he took a drag, tipping his head back over the seat of the booth and exhaling around it, letting it rest in the corner of his mouth. He was so used to drawing, driving or shooting that he kept his hands free out of habit as he sucked the smoke down into his lungs, bare arms slung over the back of the booth as the cigarette bobbed up and down between his lips. He exhaled and leaned forward to ash into his empty coffee cup and wordlessly passed the smoke across the table to Ghoul. 

As Ghoul took it from him, their fingers brushed and it felt pathetic to admit to the fire it shot through his veins. Touching Poison, even if almost imperceptible, was so raw that it felt like touching a live wire in the wreckage of a car crash. He fumbled over the cigarette and almost dropped it, but when he finally brought it to his lips it was still lit and the filter held a slight sheen of Poison’s spit. He inhaled, hoping it may soothe his anxiety, then tapped the edge of it into the discarded coffee cup with a hiss and cleared his throat. He kept his eyes trained down as his ring finger circled absently on the map, giving off smoke signals from the end of the cigarette. He was trying, and succeeding, he thought, to look nonchalant but also very aware that his every movement was being tracked by Poison’s careful eyes. He took another drag and passed it back as he looked up. When their eyes met, Poison was fixing him with an unreadable look, something adjacent to longing if he didn’t know any better, but he quickly shook it off in favor of a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“What d’ya think about this ride just being the two of us? I mean... backup’s always good, but I think we could move real stealthylike if it’s just us. We could leave tomorrow once it gets dark and then Jet and Kobe can hold down the fort. Plus,” Poison inhaled a drag as he tapped a finger to his temple and winked. “we’re just on another wavelength. I know when the shit really hits the fan all we gotta do is just give each other The Look and we’re good.” Poison was pointing at Ghoul now with two fingers, holding the cigarette between them as he spoke, ash falling off and floating down to the map between them. 

“Y’know what i think you’re right, Pois” some of the easy comfort of their relationship seeped back in once he got out of his own head for a second “no need for radios when we can communicate with our minds, eh?” He pressed his fingers into his temples for emphasis.

Poison beamed “‘Zactly, babe.” He mumbled around the cigarette, now back dangling from the corner of this mouth. He had predictably forgotten to pass it back to Ghoul, as he usually did, but this time he didn’t call him on it. He smiled fondly to himself at all the little moments like this that made Poison so infuriatingly endearing to him. 

Poison sat forward and flicked the butt of the cigarette into his coffee cup with a hiss. He began to carefully roll up the map, seemingly satisfied by their strategy session although Ghoul had literally no idea what the plan was. That had to be obvious right? Ghoul sort of hoped it was obvious. He hoped one of these days he’d get caught staring a little too long and Poison would call him on it. He hoped in equal measure that Poison was blissfully oblivious so that he would never have to find out if his feelings were reciprocated or not. He hoped for a lot of things. Poison pressed the roll of paper into Ghoul’s waiting hand across the table. 

The page was still warm from his touch and Ghoul fought off any intrusive sappy thoughts. He needed to get it together. He tucked the roll into his jacket and promised himself he would look over it later. If Poison’s life depended on his knowing the plan, then he would sure as shit know the plan. 

They both pushed up from the booth in the same motion and Ghoul dropped into step behind Poison as he sauntered towards the door. He toed it open with his boot and swung his hand up to catch it and hold it open for Ghoul, who instead reached a hand around his back to hold it himself.

“What kinda gentleman would I be if I let a pretty girl like you hold a door for little ol me?” Ghoul murmured. He hoped he sounded funny or possibly even a little charming. Honestly he had no idea what he was doing. This was all new to him and he was just reaching around for a light switch in the dark. His arm was scooped around Poison’s lower back for a far too brief moment before he continued to step through the doorway, laughing. He turned back around and winked, walking backwards over the hot dust, his red strands whipping across his eyes in the dry wind.

“You’re one to talk, girlie Ghoul. There couldn’t be anyone prettier than you in all the Zones” his face was earnest before that unreadable expression crossed it again, the one that it seemed like he saved only for Ghoul. Or maybe he was just projecting. Just as quickly, the look was gone and he lapsed back into his self-assured sass that he used with everyone else “Besides me of course. Trust me, I checked.” 

Ghoul laughed at that but he had to agree, not about himself or anything, but about the raw nerve that was Party Poison. The most punishingly beautiful creature in this wasteland. It sometimes felt like a blessing and a curse to be trapped here with him, so close to his fire that he was always warm, but without being able to have him, to hold him. He never allowed himself to realize how desperate he was just to place a hand at the curve of his neck, to beg him to tell him what he liked, even to simply hold his hand. His knuckles turned white still gripping the door with one hand as he leaned his forearm on the opposite frame, in what he hoped appeared to be a modicum of a careless slouch. He squinted out into the setting sun as Poison turned away again and he watched him pace a few steps before dramatically turning back to face him. His boots kicked up a small dust cloud and as it cleared his eyes burned into Ghoul, hotter than blaster fire. It reminded him of those old spaghetti western shootouts they used to huddle together to watch back before the tv got busted up. But none of those handsome movie stars held a candle to his pretty Poison. He could relate to those guys though- he also felt like he’d been shot through the chest and left bleeding out between the tumbleweeds. 

“Whaddya say? Go for a drive with me, Ghoulie?” Poison smirked.

Ghoul stepped out over the threshold and across the cracked earth until he was level with Poison. He looked up at the taller man, who had been predatorily tracking his movements before he turned to stare off into the rapidly setting sun, squinting his eyes against the light. Ghoul watched as his mouth pulled into a lopsided smile in an excruciatingly endearing way. If there was anything that promised freedom in their hellish existence more than going for a drive in the Trans Am, it was the look on Poison’s face right now. 

Apparently, that freedom had gone straight to his head and he was suddenly drunk on it and unable to control his motor functions. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching a hand up to brush a bit of hair from Poison’s eyes to help him better see the sunset. His red hair was surprisingly soft but his skin was softer- how did he manage that? His calloused fingers brushed behind his ear. What he would give to be on the other end of the look on his face. Just as quickly as he made the action, he suddenly remembered himself and pulled his hand back like he’d been burned on a tailpipe, letting it fall back at his side and flexing his fingers at the remembered touch on his fingertips. He frowned down at his boots and absently kicked up a small dust storm, hoping the cloud would hide him from Poison’s view, who’s eyes now felt hot on the side of his face. 

“Ghoul?” Poison’s voice was quiet, unsure again. “Ghoulie, look at me.”

Poison reached out and turned Ghoul’s chin forcing him to stare up and into his hazel eyes. That fucking doe eyed bastard. Those eyes that he would burn Battery City to the ground for. Those eyes that he would gladly burn himself out from the inside for until he was a husk of a car wreck out on the side of the road. 

“What is it, Pois?” He cleared his throat for what seemed to be the tenth time in as many minutes, desperately trying to sound casual. God it was so dry in the fucking desert. That had to be it, right? That’s why his throat was hoarse and he was having trouble concentrating? He probably had the early stages of dehydration. Yeah, that was it. He was a goner for sure. Ghoul shifted uncomfortably under Poison’s steady gaze. Had they been standing this close the whole time? He suddenly felt painfully aware of all the muscles in his face and no longer felt sure of what to do with them. 

Poison slowly reached up then and after a small moment of hesitation, he placed the palm of his hand on the side of Ghoul’s neck, rubbing his thumb across the light stubble on his cheek. Ghoul couldn’t help it, his eyes closed at how deliberate but affectionate the touch was. He placed his hand lightly on Poison’s elbow clumsily hoping to hold him there. They had touched before, of course. But never like this. It was as if Poison had reached out to turn the dial on the car radio from static to try and find something clearer. The static that had taken up residence in his mind seemed to dissipate with Poison’s careful hand on his neck. He turned his head imperceptibly into the touch. He let out a shaky breath between his teeth. God he was a mess. He was a complete and utter mess and at this point Poison had to know exactly what particular brand of mess he was. Had to know that he was the only person who could unravel him so completely.

He chanced a glance up and could’ve sworn he saw Poison’s eyes slide down to his lips and stay there, the redhead now letting out a slow breath through his nostrils. Now it was Poison’s turn to close his eyes, brows furrowed, looking like he was steeling himself for something. Ghoul’s heart beat like a rapid fire ray gun shoot out and he had no doubt in his mind that the sound must be loud enough to reach Poison’s ears. He noticed a vein throb rapidly in Poison’s throat and realized he might not be the only one who couldn’t keep his cool right now. 

“Ghoul” he breathed, just loud enough for his ears only, almost sounding like a prayer. “I’m sorry, it’s just- I’m just no good at this” Poison finally said on an exhale, his throat bobbing up and down as he pulled back looking decidedly miserable. He let out another slow breath and raked a slightly shaky hand through his hair. Ghoul had never seen him shake before, the sight was... jarring.

Ghoul knew what he meant. He knew Poison’s views on it, not getting too close to anyone, keeping things casual. The way they lived, the threat of death was always imminent, and after losing enough people you just board and shutter that portion of your heart. Leave room for friends, or family, and that’s it. Rub up on a warm body at a sweaty warehouse show. Poison had stumbled through the doors of the diner wrapped around someone unfamiliar enough times for Ghoul to become painfully familiar with his protocol. And he had done the same himself, plenty. It’s what people did when they didn’t know if they’d make it through the night. For some reason, it was supposed to make things easier. No getting left behind, no saying goodbye, no funerals. Just a casual distraction to pass the nights. What Ghoul ached for however, and only from Poison, was decidedly not casual, he realized with a twist of bitterness. Poison’s eyes had drifted to the ground, carefully inspecting something with the toe of his boot, eyebrows still drawn together and long lashes fanning out over the tops of his cheeks. He had a furious blush there that stretched down his throat, could’ve been mistaken for sunburn. He was flustered, Ghoul realized. He had never seen him rattled, not even going toe to toe with a half dozen Dracs. Maybe they were both as clueless as the other. Ghoul could work with that. 

“Party Poison? THE infamous Party Poison? Not good at something? No fuckin way” Ghoul decided to play dumb. He wouldn’t dare mention just what it was that Poison thought he was no good at. He threw an arm around his shoulder and steered him towards the car. Poison let out a small laugh, still looking down, shoulders slumped under Ghoul’s. Still looking miserable, Ghoul realized with a painful stab.

“Drive me somewhere.” Ghoul said, turning Poison to face him, keeping himself a careful distance away so as not to get sucked into his tractor beam again. He pressed the keys that he had picked up from the diner table into his hand. Poison looked up from his hand, a small smile tugging one side of his mouth up. Ghoul gave him a wink.

“Well,” Poison breathed, smile broadening “Where ya wanna go, sugar?”

“Anywhere you want.” Ghoul said honestly, smiling back “Long as I’m with you” he added, quieter, still a little unsure but feeling bold enough to press his luck.

Poison looked like he was up to absolutely no good at all, apparently falling back into himself, walking backwards and closing the gap between himself and the car. He pushed the passenger door open for Ghoul with a flourish. “After you, m’lady” 

Ghoul threw himself down into the passenger seat, the leather creaking beneath him in protest. He reached to turn the radio on, it was static but they’d pick up a signal in a mile or two, always did. Poison hopped in and revved the engine a little dramatically, looking over to Ghoul for a reaction, clearly pleased with himself. No matter how many times they did this, it never got old. Ghoul beamed back at him and breathed out a laugh, shaking his head. The last rays of the sun reached slanting through the open window, catching Poison’s hair from behind, creating a halo of orange light. In Ghoul’s eyes he was like some kind of manic, fiery motor angel. 

Ghoul spent most of his days waiting for the next moment like this lately. When it was just the two of them, blasters drawn, against the world. Only this time, he thought in disbelief, there was no reason for them to go on a drive. No supply run, no leads to follow. Just a blissful moment together.

And anyway... He was patient. He could wait. 

Poison smiled to himself, like he was lost in a thought, eyes flitting back to Ghoul briefly before he shook his head, wild hairs falling in front of his eyes. He reached down for the gearshift and floored it. The needle crept higher and higher as they tore an angry slash through the earth, leaving a dust storm in their wake. 

***

Back at the diner, Jet Star leaned his weight forward against the table top, eyes trained on the rapidly disappearing Trans Am. He let out a low whistle. 

He turned to face Kobra, who’s mouth hung open in a disbelief so expressive, it looked out of place on his usually impassive face. Jet laughed and gave a light shove to his shoulder.

“Damn.” Jet sighed out with the last traces of laughter “They really didn’t even have a clue we were still here” 

Kobra opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking back and forth between the window and Jet, clearly at a loss for words to describe the situation. Finally, he smacked his palm to the center of his forehead and let out a sigh.

“Is this what it’s gonna be like til those boneheads actually learn to fucking communicate with each other?” Kobra groaned, wiping a hand down his face “I swear those two share a single braincell” 

“I think it’s kinda cute.” Jet smiled “They’ll figure it out.” He crossed the room to pick up his helmet from where it rested on the counter and tucked it under his arm. 

“Or,” Kobra exaggeratedly mused, as if he was having an epiphany “They’ll get us all dusted.”

“Or they’ll get us all dusted.” Jet repeated, renewing his laughter as he plunked his helmet over his curly hair. “Supply run.” His voice came out muffled “You coming?” 

“Oh fuck ya, you kidding me?” Kobra jumped up from where he had been leaning against the counter and scooped up his helmet “I don’t wanna be here alone when those two get back. Might as well be a ghost to them” 

“A ghost wouldn’t be as scary as what we just witnessed” Jet said thoughtfully, words fogging up the inside of his helmet. “C’mon, let’s motor.”

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is welcome because I had just about as much idea what I’m doing as these two idiots


End file.
